


Everybody Loves Somebody (AKA 'The OTP Turns Sappy')

by reellifejaneway



Series: Saints Row Drabbles [1]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reellifejaneway/pseuds/reellifejaneway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sappy/fluffy short fic written for the wonderful knightcommanderalenko on Tumblr as part of a Valentine’s Day exchange. </p><p>Cassandra Davenport - one of the power trio in charge of the Saints - is treated to a rare evening alone with her rather unconventional lover. But she's about to discover that Morgan Prescott is not quite everything she expected him to be...</p><p>Mix that with a little Dean Martin inspiration, probably far too much OC romance, and just a dash of Saints Row silliness, and you have this story. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Loves Somebody (AKA 'The OTP Turns Sappy')

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knightcommanderalenko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightcommanderalenko/gifts).



> Based on the prompt: “M!Morgan Prescott x Cass, where M!Morgan is being a sap and trying to be romantic, and CASS BEING LIKE ??? WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING”
> 
> Morgan Prescott belongs to me; Cassandra Davenport belongs to knightcommanderalenko; Steelport and the world of Saints Row belongs to Deep Silver and Volition.

It wasn’t as though he made a habit of being romantic.

In fact, when the mood did take him - as it did just now - it usually involved a fleeting and laughable apparition of actions he never intended to actually carry out. 

Yet somehow tonight Morgan Prescott found himself straightening silverware on a table setting. And then lighting candles. And placing a single perfectly cut white rose in a polished vase.

It was that final touch that made him pause and check himself in wonder. What on earth was he doing? This was absurd. He was a gang leader, a man of power and intrigue — well. He was kind of kidding himself on those last two points. Falling through a wormhole into a universe where the Saints weren’t ruled by him, but rather by a trio of deadly and gorgeous women, had put an untimely end to that ambition. He always seemed to turn into a nervous mess around them (and one in particular). Nevertheless, his fiasco did have an up-side.

Or in the case of Cassandra Davenport, he added silently, many _very_ flattering sides. 

Morgan straightened up and pocketed his lighter inside the lining of his suit blazer. The candles flickered in the gentle evening breeze, ducking and bobbing in time to the rhythm of the waves beyond. Turning about, he took in his surroundings with a satisfied grin.

Now all he had to do was wait for her to arrive.

He could only hope that Pierce had followed his directions to the letter and that Cass hadn’t caught onto their secret plan.

 

* * *

 

“Seriously? You need me to infiltrate a Morning Star gathering—” Cassandra motioned her hands up and down her body, “dressed like _this_?”

Pierce shrugged at the black velvet dress she’d chosen. “Guess they have classy do’s too sometimes, boss. Besides, its just one night.”

“Yeah whatever.” Cass flipped her long red curls over one shoulder, then paused halfway to the elevator to slip on her strappy heels. “And it just so happens that this ‘classy do’ fell on Valentine’s Day?” She shot him a disbelieving look and stepped into the other shoe, bending elegantly to adjust the gold buckles. 

“Not my fault they chose today.” The penthouse elevator pinged and Pierce held the door. “So? You coming?”

“No, I got all frocked up and dusted with powdered gold leaf just to have a night in.” 

Her colleague’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “You don’t seriously have uh, gold leaf under… you know…”

Cass stepped into the lift and gently put a finger to his chin, pushing his mouth shut. “Erase that mental image and just drive me to the party?”

 

* * *

 

Not ten minutes later, Cass glanced up from her phone to find that the car was slowing down. She’d expected the ride to take at least a half hour. But instead, Pierce was pulling the limousine — of all rides in her collection, he just _had_ to select the most garish one — into a secluded parking lot.

“What’s going on?” She queried, arching one brow suspiciously. 

“Just a short cut.”

“Really?” Her response was more a snort than anything but Cass refrained from clambering through the front partition. Pierce was clearly hiding something and she was getting edgy. “What’s going on? Are we being tailed?”

“No, boss, I promise its just a quick cut through these side-streets here. Traffic is bad so I’m saving us time.”

“Right, Pierce. The streets are practically empty. I don’t—” 

But her voice trailed off.

The vehicle turned a corner and Cass was suddenly met by an incredible sight.  
Instead of just an empty parking lot, she found that string after string of lights had been strung up across the open space. They hung off power-lines, fire escape railings, criss-crossing each other and almost blocking out the sunset-tinged sky above. 

Her accusatory words died on her tongue.

Of all the possible things that could have come of tonight, this had honestly been the last thing Cass had expected.

Pierce grinned at her over his shoulder. “Told you it was a short-cut,” he winked. 

_What the fuck…._

The limo circled about and stopped at the edge of the lot, where the pavement melded with the aged wood of a pier. The lights didn’t stop here, Cass realised. They continued down along the railings of the wharf. The bay beyond shimmered and rippled in the light, sparks of white gold flitting across the waves like fireflies.

Pierce got out of the car and opened her door, offering her his hand. 

“Fuck. What is this?” Cass breathed in disbelief. Her heels may as well have been walking on clouds rather than concrete, for she barely felt the ground. “What _is_ this?”

“Go find out,” Pierce nodded down toward the other end of the pier. Then he stepped back toward the limo and waited.

That was her cue. Well she sure as hell wasn’t going to get any answers by gaping.

Cass quickly smoothed out her velvet skirt and stepped out onto the boardwalk. As she passed the railing posts, she found an individual rose lying atop each one. She blinked and began to collect them, slowly accruing a bunch of the precious white blooms while she walked. The closer she got to the end of the pier, the bolder her host became. Now there were handwritten notes beneath the roses.

_With each step…_  
_Feel my gaze…_  
_Growing warmer.  
_ _Come find me._

Cass’ cheeks were burning now. She knew who had gone to all this trouble; oh, she knew only too well. But she never would have guessed he had this kind of sheer romance in him.

_Happy Valentine’s Day, Cassandra Davenport. -M.P._

The twinkling lights seemed to part as the rails opened wide, revealing a much larger section of pier. They were further out in the bay now. All about them lay water, open air, open sky. Her mouth went dry when she spotted the small table, overlaid with a red tablecloth. Candles flickered, beckoned her closer. And as she moved into the open, music began to play. A soft melody from a vinyl record: _Everybody Loves Somebody._

“You made it,” a deep voice greeted her from behind.

Cass spun about, her eyes wide and arms laden with flowers. “I… I did,” she stammered. 

Morgan moved out of the shadows then, a genuine soft smile making his pale grey eyes seem even brighter than usual. The moment she saw his swept back silver hair, his finely tailored suit, her knees grew weak. _God_ … if Cass thought he’d been handsome before then he looked downright _ravishing_ now. 

“Fuck me…” she breathed.

“Excuse me, babe, I didn’t quite catch that.” Morgan gave one of his characteristic half-smirks and stepped into her personal space. “You look a little too busy for that right now at least. May I?”

She managed a stunned nod, utterly bewildered at his sudden discovery of charm — and her own witlessness. 

Morgan took the flowers and gently set them in the vase with the other bloom that awaited them. He returned to her and opened his arms in offer.

“May I have this dance, Ms Davenport?”

She nodded, staring in disbelief as Morgan took her fair hand in his own. His feet moved so easily to the music. In fact, despite her society upbringing, he was one of the best dancers she’d met. 

This was a highly unexpected development.

For by day, Morgan Prescott was almost painfully cheesy. Puns and innuendo had always seemed to come more easily to him than charm or romance. And yet tonight, he had undergone some sort of metamorphosis. The man dancing with her couldn’t possibly be the same man she’d been sparring with earlier. Or the same man who the day before had bodily thrown her into the hot tub. Or who had then proceeded to chase her around the condo in his boxers.

“Penny for your thoughts.” His voice sounded against her ear, a puff of breath sending goosebumps across her skin.

Cass shivered. “Morgan, when did you learn to be this smooth?”

“I’ve always been smooth, baby.”

“No, you idiot,” she snorted and shook her head, smiling. “No, I mean the ‘candles- flowers-and-champagne’ smooth.”

He spun her around, folding her close to his broad chest as the twirl ended. “Would you rather I produced a giant purple dildo bat and chased you around the pier when the song ends?”

Cass chortled and buried her face against his chest. “It wouldn’t match the suit.”

She felt his laugh against her hair. But then she felt his hand creep down from her shoulder to the curve of her waist, settling at the dip of her spine. The velvet and the warmth of his palm gave her the most thrilling sensation. Cass bit down on her lip to try and stifle a shiver. “You… You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” She couldn’t hide the small crack in her voice, but she definitely wasn’t about to admit that there were tears in her eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cass,” came the whispered reply. Morgan tilted her chin up so she could look him straight in the eye. There was a dark shimmer to his gaze now. And it sent another chill raking straight up her spine.

Morgan bent in closer and the tip of his nose rubbed softly against hers. It was surprisingly tender to be this close. Untouching, breaths mingling. Her hands crept up to wrap around his neck. Cass moaned as she drew him in, and as they kissed, her confusion was transformed into clear-minded passion. Their lips met and for what felt like the first time, it was simple, gentle, earnest. Eyes half closed in the candlelight, Cass felt the rhythm of their movements slow. Morgan clasped her a little closer now and she couldn’t imagine her evening ending any other way. 

He broke the kiss just long enough to murmur hoarsely, “So about that dildo-bat…”

Cass laughed and slapped the back of his head lightly. “Just kiss me, you charming, stupid man.”


End file.
